But for my duty to your ladyship.

SILVIA	I thank you gentle servant: 'tis very clerkly done.

VALENTINE	Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off;
	For being ignorant to whom it goes
	I writ at random, very doubtfully.

SILVIA	Perchance you think too much of so much pains?

VALENTINE	No, madam; so it stead you, I will write
	Please you command, a thousand times as much; And yet--

SILVIA	A pretty period! Well, I guess the sequel;
	And yet I will not name it; and yet I care not;
	And yet take this again; and yet I thank you,
	Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more.

SPEED	[Aside]  And yet you will; and yet another 'yet.'

VALENTINE	What means your ladyship? do you not like it?

SILVIA	Yes, yes; the lines are very quaintly writ;
	But since unwillingly, take them again.
	Nay, take them.

VALENTINE	Madam, they are for you.

SILVIA	Ay, ay: you writ them, sir, at my request;
	But I will none of them; they are for you;
	I would have had them writ more movingly.

VALENTINE	Please you, I'll write your ladyship another.

SILVIA	And when it's writ, for my sake read it over,
	And if it please you, so; if not, why, so.

VALENTINE	If it please me, madam, what then?

SILVIA	Why, if it please you, take it for your labour:
	And so, good morrow, servant.

	[Exit]

SPEED	O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible,
	As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple!
	My master sues to her, and she hath
	taught her suitor,
	He being her pupil, to become her tutor.
	O excellent device! was there ever heard a better,
	That my master, being scribe, to himself should write
	the letter?

VALENTINE	How now, sir? what are you reasoning with yourself?

SPEED	Nay, I was rhyming: 'tis you that have the reason.

VALENTINE	To do what?

SPEED	To be a spokesman for Madam Silvia.

VALENTINE	To whom?

SPEED	To yourself: why, she wooes you by a figure.

VALENTINE	What figure?

SPEED	By a letter, I should say.

VALENTINE	Why, she hath not writ to me?

SPEED	What need she, when she hath made you write to
	yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest?

VALENTINE	No, believe me.

SPEED	No believing you, indeed, sir. But did you perceive
	her earnest?

VALENTINE	She gave me none, except an angry word.

SPEED	Why, she hath given you a letter.

VALENTINE	That's the letter I writ to her friend.

SPEED	And that letter hath she delivered, and there an end.

VALENTINE	I would it were no worse.

SPEED	I'll warrant you, 'tis as well:
	For often have you writ to her, and she, in modesty,
	Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply;
	Or fearing else some messenger that might her mind discover,
	Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover.
	All this I speak in print, for in print I found it.
	Why muse you, sir? 'tis dinner-time.

VALENTINE	I have dined.

SPEED	Ay, but hearken, sir; though the chameleon Love can